


cruel when you shake your hips that way

by angelcult



Category: SK8 the Infinity (Anime)
Genre: Animal Metaphors, Breeding, Breeding Kink, Come Eating, Dirty Talk, Face-Fucking, Hand Jobs, Heat Kink, Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov References, M/M, Nipple Play, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Sadistic Hasegawa Langa, Size Difference, Spit As Lube, just a bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:35:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29009892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelcult/pseuds/angelcult
Summary: Langa has owned precisely one cat in his entire life, and he was five. Though, even after all the years that have passed he finds himself identifying a heat right in the garage of Dope, from a little black kitten with a sharp tongue.
Relationships: Chinen Miya/Hasegawa Langa
Comments: 4
Kudos: 65





	cruel when you shake your hips that way

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nightmarefuckboy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightmarefuckboy/gifts).



> I’m finding that Langa being sadistic when it comes to sex is my new favourite characterisation of him.
> 
> A gift for [nightmarefuckboy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightmarefuckboy/pseuds/nightmarefuckboy)! Their works are wonderful (and I wanted to give one in return <3)

Langa has seen cats in heat before, they mewl and roll around and demand to be petted and held and otherwise pampered for _at least_ six days. He recalls it happening with his childhood cat, at the tender age of six months, and he’d been both confused and amused.

Needless to say, he’s no expert on animal behavior, but he knows a cat in heat when he sees one.

There’s a black cat in heat on the couch in the back room of the shop as he thinks this, his eyes trailing up from his schoolwork to observe it as it lounges.

One leg draped over the back of the couch, the other foot firmly planted on the floor, a pair of white socks with pink paw prints on the bottom.

Tiny black shorts, and a purple shirt that’s riding up his stomach, like _Lolita_ but without all the pretense, though he’s just as stubborn. 

He’s directly in front of the fan, Langa can smell his sweet body wash, strawberries and cream, his vanilla scented shampoo, black hair fanned around the pillow beneath his head.

Tilting his head, the fan does nothing to stop the heat of the summer and the enclosed space, cheeks flushed pink.

He looks.. Langa looks away, back to his paper, he hasn’t gotten _any_ work done.

 _“Langaaaa..”_ The boy groans again, but his voice is still so high and girlish that it sounds more like a moan, and he’s just a sight like that, moaning his name while he’s covered in a thin sheen of sweat and his cheeks are flushed and his lips are being licked because they keep drying out and—

“Yes, Miya?”

“Pay attention to me.” He mutters bluntly, looking at Langa with those piercing green eyes, resting a hand on his stomach.

Langa’s eyes follow the motion, he’s pushing his shirt up to wipe at the sweat gathered on his neck. His flush spreads down his chest, he has a little bruise from a wipeout on his side, up his ribs.

His skin looks beautiful marred by bruises, they compliment him in purples, reds and yellows like well-tailored clothes and diamonds. 

“I have work to do.” Is what he says in response when their eyes meet again, and the boy huffs a sigh. 

“You’re _boring_ and you’re barely getting anything done.” Sitting up without moving his leg from over the top of the couch, Langa is made aware of how _flexible_ Miya is, and lets his mind wander to all the different positions he could push his body into. 

“What would you rather I do then?” Langa asks, laying his pencil down as Miya gets up and walks over to him, slumping down next to him, pushing his notebook out of his lap, on top of the open book in front of him and then flopped down across his lap.

He’s seen cats in heat, he _knows_ how it goes. 

Attention-seeking, _demanding it,_ just like the little kitten laying in his lap with his legs spread to stop them from sticking together in the heat.

He smells even better up close, he can smell the salt of his sweat, his body wash and shampoo, the grass from where he’d spread out earlier at the skatepark.

“It’s so hot.”

“Laying on me isn’t going to make it any better.”

Miya doesn’t respond, just rolls onto his side and pushes his face into Langa’s shirt, not so subtly smelling him.

Testing compatibility? Did cats even do that, or were they more like dogs, fucking anything that moved the moment a heat or rut struck? Cats were so much more dignified, he was probably just trying to lure him in.

“ _Langa,”_ Miya moaned, peeking up at him through his hair. “Make it better. Is there a better fan anywhere?”

Bratty, that’s the word, cats are _bratty._

Instead of responding, Langa leans back on his hands, tilting his head back, hair falling back from his face.

 _Don’t do it,_ he tells himself, _don’t do it._

Miya is still talking, tone taking a more obnoxious turn, gracefully eloquent even when he’s complaining and demanding.

It could be his first heat, he’s heard they’re uncomfortable but don’t really hurt a whole lot, maybe that’s why he came to him instead of Reki or even _Adam_ who he’s sure he’s known far longer.

He thinks about his reputation around school, as a sweet prince who’s kind and gentle and caring but—

Looking at Miya’s stomach, his shorts that are steadily riding up, he can firmly say that’s not true. If the boy in his lap is a kitten, he’s surely a wolf, he wants to _tear him apart._

Sink his teeth into his neck, making him scream and claw and go limp beneath him once he’s been thoroughly used.

He’s good at pretending he’s more than a hunter though, and mostly, he _is_ those things, but Miya makes it hard to stay that way.

Dragging his tongue over one of his canines, he leans over Miya, eyebrows drawing in when the boy finally stops his incessant complaining.

“I can help with the heat.” He says, intentionally vague as he rests a hand on Miya’s leg.

“Took you long enough.” He grumbles, and then his eyes are growing wide as Langa’s hand slides up his leg, squeezing his thigh that’s full of lean muscle, digging his nails into his skin as he bites his lip. 

He likes the startled and scared surprise in Miya’s eyes.

“What-“

“Take your shorts off.”

They stare at each other, Miya looking more like a trembling bunny than the kitten he’s grown to know for a moment before he’s sitting up and pushing his shorts down.

“Fuck,” Langa swears softly. He wasn’t wearing anything under them, not that he’d imagined he really could given how small they were, but he didn’t-

Miya is sitting in his lap half-dressed, cock soft against his thighs, watching Langa expectantly.

“It’s still hot.” He says haughtily, tilting his head up aristocratically, looking down his nose at him, and _there’s_ his little kitten.

“We aren’t done.” Langa slides his hand up Miya’s stomach as he speaks, pausing to pinch lightly at one of his nipples. 

“Unf,” Miya grunts softly under his breath, reaching down to draw his shirt up, fingers clenching into the fabric.

“Do you like that?” The older boy asks and when Miya nods, he does it again, rougher, dragging his thumb across until it hardens beneath his touch, and then he’s replacing his hand with his mouth and teeth, relishing in his moans and gasps as his hand finds the other.

By the time he’s done they’re both red and puffy and he flinches back every time Langa touches them.

He’s hard against his stomach, cock leaking onto his thighs, Langa is going to _devour him._

“Are you still hot?”

“Yes,” His voice is whiny now, with pleasure and a tinge of desperation. He’s probably never even _felt_ anything like that before, and even for a boy of only fifteen that’s a bit impressive.

“Want me to touch you here?” Langa asks, hovering his hand over Miya’s cock and he nods, trying to push his hips towards Langa’s hand without unseating himself.

“Oh, shush, I’m going to touch you.” Langa lightly chastises when Miya whines again, louder. “You’re so wet.” He adds after, as he wraps a hand around him, palm slicking easily even without lube (how is he going to fuck him without lube?) and the boy falls to pieces just like that.

He’s huffing little moans, that grow louder and louder with every stroke and twist of Langa’s hand. 

If he twists on an upstroke, Miya will squeal, if he pushes his thumb against the slit and rubs back and forth, Miya will shake and tremble so hard he worries he’ll hurt himself. 

“You’re lasting so l- _oh_ ,” Langa breathes a moan, having spoken too soon as Miya arches his back with a startled cry, cum painting the backs of his fingers. 

He lets Miya fuck into his fist until he can’t and then when they lock eyes, he licks his hand clean, moaning as if _he’s_ the one who just got a handjob, sounding as wrecked as Miya looks.

He’s so hard in his pants it almost hurts, he wants to pin Miya to the floor and take him until he’s satisfied, wants Miya crying and begging beneath him with tears on his face, he wants to _ruin_ him.

Langa makes that much known; he rocks his hips up, sees the moment Miya can feel him through his pants. Green eyes go a little wider, pupils dilating further until there’s barely any of that pretty emerald colour left, rocking his hips down against the other.

Reaching forward, he digs his hand into Miya’s hair, holding him in place as his other hand hurriedly undoes the button and zipper of his pants. Sighing quietly at the slight relief of the pressure that had been against him, he reaches into his pants and pulls his cock with little finesse.

It’s an angry red, wet around the head where the foreskin is pulled back. 

Miya’s eyes widen slightly and Langa looks at him, eyes dark and heady before he’s pushing his head down, grabbing his hip to comfortably adjust how he had been sitting.

Now, he was laying flat on his stomach on the cold floor, it sent a shiver through him as his sensitive skin rubs against the concrete. 

He was holding himself up with his arms, forearms resting flatly against the foot on either side of Langa’s propped up knees, his eyes looking between Langa and his cock. 

“Get me wet.” The older boy growls, dragging Miya’s head closer, grabbing himself with his other hand and lightly tapping the head against his pink mouth. 

“I don’t-“

“You don’t know how to do this?”

“No..” Miya’s cheeks colour with embarrassment. 

“Watch your teeth,” Langa says as he lets go of Miya’s hair to rest his hand on the side of his face. He gently opens Miya’s mouth with his thumb, biting his lip at the sight of him.

He was so beautiful, but he’d look prettier with tears in his eyes.

“Cover your teeth.” He directs softly, until Miya was doing as he was asked and then he was back to holding him by the hair, guiding his cock into his mouth slowly. Moaning under his breath, he knew that Miya couldn’t take it all, but-

“Breathe, through your nose.”

And then he was shoving his cock into his throat, moaning louder when he felt him choking around him, scrambling as if he wanted to get away. Langa kept a firm grip on him until he calmed down, looking up at him with wide eyes, startled and flushed, cheeks turning redder the longer he wasn’t able to get a steady breath. 

Tears built up in his eyes, every blink leaving his eyes shimmery and wet.

“Just a little more..” Rocking his hips for a moment, he pulled out and watched in sadistic pleasure as Miya choked and sputtered.

“That fucking hurt-“

“It would hurt more if I went in dry, mm? Come here.”

As he speaks, he’s already pulling Miya up and then pauses, laughing softly.

“You’re so hard, baby. Oh, look at how red your little prick is..” 

He’s pushing two fingers into his mouth as he taunts him, fucking down against his tongue. 

“I thought it hurt, so why are you so fucking hard, hm?”

He drags his fingers from Miya’s mouth, parting the string of spit that follows with his tongue, and then he’s licking across Miya’s lips as his fingers fall behind the boy.

“Hold onto my shoulders and lean forward.”

After Miya does as he’s told, Langa hooks his chin over the smaller boy’s shoulder, staring down behind him as he uses one hand to spread him open, wet fingers prodding at his hole.

If he thought he smelled wonderful before he smells even better now, his sweet smell tangling with the scent of sex is damn near orgasmic. Shushing and soothing him until he relaxes, he pushes a finger in and moans with Miya when he feels how tight and hot he is around him. 

“Langa-“

“Shh..” Soothing, even as he fucks a finger into him, though the spit is growing tacky, and Miya is getting uncomfortable. Sighing, Langa finds himself shoving his fingers back into Miya’s mouth to get them wetter.

“Mmph,” Miya grinds his hips forward, looking for a place to rut against, though he stops with a sharp slap to his thigh and then Langa’s pushing his fingers into him again. His moans are pained and pleasured, a heady mix as he arches back against Langa’s hand, pleading.

“ _More,_ more, please-“

He’s burning up inside, _hot,_ sends Langa lurching to his first thought of how this all began, the sweating boy on the couch with his legs spread, and now his fingers are more rough and insistent, hitting Miya’s prostate more than he’s really stretching him. 

His eyes are glassy and his lips are parted in moans and sighs and cries of Langa’s name, pleading that he can’t hold back, he’s going to cum-

Pulling his fingers out, Miya whimpers pathetically.

“Get me wet again.” And there’s no hesitation this time, Miya is down between his thighs, pushing skin back to drag his tongue over the sensitive head in kittens licks before sucking it into his mouth.

He’s leaking so much over his stomach and thighs that it always looks like he’s cum again, body shivery and wholly oversensitive.

“Down your throat, baby.”

Looking up, Miya swallows and inhales before forcing his head down, making himself take it and Langa _loves it._

He loves Miya’s choked gasps, the spit rolling down his shaft from his mouth is warm and he almost wants to cum down his throat instead of inside of him but he knows that won’t stop it, won’t stop the begging and the attention-seeking. 

“Enough,” He manages to grit out and he lets Miya lap at the head of his cock for a moment before he’s forcing him onto his stomach, keeping his hips up and his back arched.

He looks a lot more like a cat in heat that way, can practically imagine his little tail stuck straight up into the air. 

Watching as the boy wiggles his hips, Langa finally rests his hands on Miya’s ass, spreading him open. His hole looks so tiny, he almost doubts he’ll fit but then he’s pushing the head of his cock against him and sinking inside with less resistance than he thought he would.

 _Poor thing,_ Langa thinks as he forces himself to stay still after pushing into him to the hilt, _must really have wanted it._

Miya is shaking beneath him, clenching and unclenching around him as if he’s stunned by the weight inside himself, soft little _“uh”’s_ and _“ah”’s_ leaving his mouth.

“Wish you could see yourself.” Langa says softly as he starts to thrust into him, gripping Miya’s hips, wants to bruise them in the same way his side is, wants him to see them and get so unbearably hot it’s almost like he’s in a heat again. 

“You look so hot, so fuckin- _god,_ such a little..” He trails off, leaning over Miya’s back, he almost completely covers him, he’s just so _tiny_ compared to Langa, all soft edges, he isn’t done growing just yet.

His pace grows rough quickly, sharp thrusts that leave the backs of Miya’s thighs and his ass a raw, spanked red.

“Langa, La- _ah!-Langa!”_ His moans echo throughout the garage, and he knows they must be loud, he wonders absently if anyone could hear them, but the thought is gone as soon as it comes.

Instead, he focuses on the heat around him, on how Miya clenches and tightens around him, how his nails scratch at the floor because it’s all too much; the pleasure and the hurt, his raw nipples against the rough floor, his cock that Langa has deliberately left untouched.

Langa knows that he’s feeling a little too much of everything in that moment, that he probably can’t even decide what feels best but he’s hard all the same, cock curled up towards his stomach, his thighs spread to both steady himself and take Langa deeper inside.

“Louder, I want you _louder,_ fu-u-uck-“ Langa drags out, head tilted back towards the ceiling.

He’s barely holding on, and he knows the only reason he’s even holding back is because he likes watching Miya writhe beneath him.

Wrapping his hand around Miya’s cock, it only takes one rough stroke before he’s cumming, screaming against the floor, face wet with tears, nails digging into the concrete as he pushed back, sinking onto Langa as he finally went still and relatively quiet. Small sobs and gasps for air could be heard beneath the sound of skin-on-skin, and then Langa bit into the back of his neck, making a loud and wounded noise as he held Miya’s hips in place despite his small protests.

“Take it, take it _all, take it all..!_ Oh my God..”

His voice goes high and soft, trembling much like the boy beneath him. 

They fall into silence, only breaking it with small pants and gasps, having not yet parted, though too sensitive to stay connected that way for much longer.

When Langa finally pulls out, he’s grown soft and it makes his cum spill down the backs of Miya’s thighs and onto the ground, and it’s such a _lewd_ sight, he can’t stop himself from gently prodding with his fingers.

“Langa-“ Miya starts, quickly, reaching back to grab the other’s wrist, though Langa catches it gently in his hand.

“Shh..” He pulls his hand away and licks his fingers clean, and then he finds himself licking up the back of Miya’s thighs, cleaning up his skin, and then he’s keeping him open to lick at his hole. 

Miya makes a small noise, almost like relief, as if being soothed from the ache he must feel. He pushes back against him, the hand that was in Langa’s grasp now loosely running through his sweaty hair as if to thank him for what he was doing and what he had done.

Langa places a final kiss against the small of the boy’s back when there isn’t any more to clean away and his jaw has long since grown tired.

Helps Miya get dressed even though the boy looks like he can hardly stand, knees knocking together, thighs quivering. 

His hips have hand-shaped bruises on them, and Langa hates to see them covered by clothes but he soothes himself with a simple thought.

_Cats go into heat every two to three weeks._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to comment or check me out on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ariaforhypnos)


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